


saber

by soulshrapnel



Series: Playing With Fire [6]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, Lime, M/M, cutting off clothes, weapon kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:40:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26747485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soulshrapnel/pseuds/soulshrapnel
Summary: "Well, you've always got that weapon at your belt, even during play." Tarkin gestured carelessly to the lightsaber at Vader's waist. "Do you ever use itforplay?"(Kinktober, Day 1: Knifeplay)
Relationships: Wilhuff Tarkin/Darth Vader
Series: Playing With Fire [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1307006
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23
Collections: Kinktober 2020





	saber

**Author's Note:**

> hello! i have decided to post 31 short kinky fanfics in 31 days because i am that kind of crazy.
> 
> not all of them will belong in the "playing with fire" continuity, & not all of them will be this pairing, but we're starting off with it so as to put our best foot forward :D
> 
> (if you've never read the rest of "playing with fire," it's ok, all these fics should be pretty self-explanatory.)

"Vader," said Tarkin during one of their long afternoons at Fortress Vader, "I was curious about something."

They were sitting together up in the multipurpose room at the fortress's peak, with its panoramic views of a landscape full of lava and crags. Tarkin had taken to spending certain weekends here with Vader, indulging himself. He liked the strange, armored Sith Lord much more than he would have admitted to a third party - and the two of them shared certain proclivities.

"Were you?" said Vader, diffident.

"Well, you've always got that weapon at your belt, even during play." Tarkin gestured carelessly to the lightsaber at Vader's waist. Vader almost always kept his full suit on, even when he and Tarkin were intimate. He had ways of giving and receiving pleasure, but they largely involved the Force. "Do you ever use it _for_ play?"

Vader leaned forward, looming slightly. His hand went protectively to the lightsaber's hilt, and Tarkin considered the weapon's suggestive shape. Normally Tarkin had no patience for jokes about weapons as phallic symbols - there was _far_ more to the artful design and use of weapons than _that_ \- but an unlit lightsaber was, admittedly, fairly close to the right size.

"A lightsaber is a sacred object," said Vader. "It is not to be taken lightly."

Tarkin raised his eyebrows. "Is that a no?"

To his delight, Vader unclipped the saber from his belt. He held it out, gesturing with the hilt. "Do you believe yourself _worthy_ of it?"

Tarkin smiled thinly, holding Vader's gaze. "Do you?"

With a _snap-hiss,_ Vader activated the saber.

The blade extended, bright red and shimmering, straight over Tarkin's shoulder. It radiated a surprising heat; he could feel it on the skin of his jaw and neck, warming him through the thin fabric of his off-duty tunic.

Tarkin had played with knives and other weapons before - usually from the dominant role, but he liked it both ways. There was something intoxicating about a weapon, any weapon, wielded ruthlessly for the owner's ends. He felt his smile widen. He was careful not to make any sudden moves.

"Get up," Vader snapped.

Carefully, Tarkin maneuvered off his chair and to his feet. Vader wielded the saber well for this purpose, keeping it close enough to be a menace, but controlling it. There were no elaborate moves yet, no over-the-top threats; a weapon like this was threat enough, a complete sentence all on its own.

Vader backed him up against the window, thick transparisteel from floor to ceiling, letting the hellish glow of lava into the room. He tilted Tarkin's chin up, the point of the lightsaber uncomfortably hot as it hovered between his exposed throat and his jaw.

"Now," Vader purred in that deep voice of his, "you will do as I say."

Tarkin met his gaze, unafraid. He liked to challenge Vader in encounters like these, and Vader liked to be challenged. "Will I?"

In response, the saber slashed violently downwards.

Tarkin heard the tearing sound, felt the abrupt pull on his tunic, for a frightening half-second before he realized what it was. Vader had tugged the tunic's front an inch away from Tarkin's skin, just far enough that it could be cut without cutting _him_ \- and in the same motion, he had neatly slashed through and destroyed it. Not just a single line down the chest, but multiple zigzag lines, slicing it apart entirely.

Tarkin watched, his heart delightedly pounding, as the tunic's tatters fluttered to the floor. The saber rose again and came to a halt just over his shoulder.

"On your knees," Vader commanded.

Tarkin didn't obey, not for the first half-second. He held Vader's gaze as Vader lowered the saber a millimeter at a time. Only when its nearness to his skin became painful, when he began to genuinely worry he might burn, did he bend his knees and let the saber guide him down.

He knelt there on the hard floor, heat between his thighs, exhilarated.

"Part your legs," said Vader.

Again Tarkin waited for Vader to make him do it. The blade of the saber came down by his knees, the heat of it blazing through the fabric of his trousers, pushed forward little by little until it rested between the bones of his knees, less than an inch from the skin. It _hurt,_ and he had to open his legs a little just for relief. But of course that small concession gave Vader room to push further in, the blade humming as it glided in between his thighs, making him spread even more. He was already backed against the window, there was no room to squirm away.

Tarkin was getting hard already, and he could faintly feel the lightsaber's radiant heat _there,_ warm like fevered breath against his shaft.

Tarkin knew perfectly well how dangerous this was. A lightsaber could slice through flesh and bone as easily as breakfast food. A single careless twitch of Vader's wrist, or his fingers, could leave him maimed or worse. But Tarkin had seen how Vader handled a saber. He was an expert at this; he would make no such mistake. Tarkin was pleasantly nervous, but he wasn't afraid.

Vader tilted his helmeted head. "I forgot the delight you take in weapons. I should have tried this long ago."

Tarkin lifted an eyebrow. "I'm worthy of it, then?"

The saber abruptly slashed again, the Force pulling Tarkin's remaining clothes this way and that, heat dancing over his body. It took him a moment, catching his startled breath, before he realized it was not just his trousers but the undergarments, too. He was naked now. The saber had been _there._

Tarkin swallowed hard. He knew he was uninjured. The sheer precision and control this must take, on Vader's part, was even more attractive than the danger. His skin tingled, and the heat of the nearby saber was not the only reason.

Vader's voice was scornful. "You are worthy, at least, of _me._ "

Holding the saber with one hand, Vader made a small flick of his other wrist. There was a different burst of sensation up Tarkin's thighs, pressure and heat across his body, as Vader's phantom touch began to explore him properly. It was warmer than normal, a gentle heat that slightly resembled the sensation that the saber had made. Stars, this was going to be _splendid._

"So I will hold you at the saber's point," said Vader, "while I have my way with you. Do you want that?"

"Oh, yes," Tarkin breathed.

The lightsaber hummed in his ears, and Vader's Force-grip tightened around him. Tarkin closed his eyes and enjoyed it all.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading! also - if you know me or you've commented on my fics before, then i am taking suggestions. kinktober masterpost with more info is [here.](https://madeofsplinters.tumblr.com/post/629788051840909312/kinktober-masterpost)


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